There Was This Good Samaritan, Used To Volunteer At The Ray Of Hope Group Home. That’s Where I Was

Mulled wine & ham

A Monsters in the Dark Christmas Drabble

Christmas fluff, mentions of dark themes (prevalent throughout this series), possessive behavior, alcohol consumption, bust mostly just fluff, fem!reader.

Monsters in the Dark Masterlist.

737 words.

x

He watched you drinking too much at a holiday party that night in December, playing footsies under the table with him, unbeknownst to all the guests.

He’d smirked, sipping his mulled wine as you snitched ham off his plate, and then another piece, and another still.

“Oi, Billy. You gonna let her steal all your ham?” asked one of the men, drunk and on his third plate of food, looking curiously at you.

Billy hummed, not liking the man’s gaze on you at all, and gave him a dark look. “I don’t care for ham, at all actually. It’s too fatty and salty.” He said as your foot climbed up his calf, and you stole some mashed potatoes with your fork.

“I’m sorry, Wilbur. But I can’t resist the taste.” You mumbled, before biting off another piece of ham you’d taken.

Billy took another drink, and almost choked on his wine at your words. God, you made these holiday parties for Anvil worth going to. He wasn’t bored out of his mind with you here. He saw several women wanting to approach him, by the way they kept peeking at him and giggling like school girls. A year ago he would have happily indulged in it, but he was entirely caught up in you, especially after you’d killed Arthur. You’d defended him when his own mother, and others hadn’t.

He’d always grown disinterested in women after a week. He was sure some had loved him, but he loved you. Because you wanted him, because you were soft, and devoted, and made him realize the world wasn’t always such a dark, and evil place. Because he could be his true self with you, and still receive your love. He didn’t have to put up the facade of a good man, because you wanted him to be entirely himself, otherwise he wouldn’t be worth half as much to you.

The Tiffany bracelet he bought you last week, was shining on your wrist in the light, creating prisms. The only reason you wore it was for him. You couldn’t care less about material things, which made it hard when he wanted to spoil you, to take care of you.

And he’d wanted to care for you, he didn’t think you needed to work, but you put your foot down on that. You liked your independence, and if something went wrong you’d be stranded with nowhere to go.

Billy had reluctantly agreed, but he knew nothing was going to change. You were his.

You liked working at the library anyway, affectionately complaining about the cranky old lady who worked there.

“I’ll probably end up like her,” you laughed, “with five cats.”

That was when he seriously decided to keep you. He wanted your five cats, attachments be damned.

“I want to grab your hair, and kiss you.” You said, watching him, feet still playing with his legs.

Billy uncrossed his legs, “Why don’t you?” He asked, leaning in, voice husky.

“I don’t think your fan club would approve.” You laughed, eyes flicking down to his mouth.

Billy huffed, “The only fan club I want is yours.” He said, leaning back.

You smiled, “Oh, Billy. Don’t tempt me. You might find yourself stalked.” You said, drinking more of the awful wine.

Billy didn’t get a chance to respond.

“Isn’t he handsome?” One of the women laughed, looking at you, eyes glazed. Drunk, probably.

You stole a piece of his pumpkin pie, “And smart. And ambitious. A tactician. Resourceful. A protector. And sweet when he’s not being an asshole.” You said softly, spraying a bunch of whipped cream on a single bite of pumpkin pie.

Billy adjusted his tie, feeling uncomfortable. You saw him through the facade, you didn’t see him just for his beauty, but everything else, too.

The woman stared. She hadn’t thought of those things, she just saw him superficially. Just another pretty face, as they say. She ended up drifting away and Billy let out a sigh of relief. “Janice. Every office party she hits on me.” He whispered, pouring himself more wine.

“I bet she’s the president of your fan club.” You laughed, and then paused. “Billy should take me home, so we can have a hot bath together with some better wine.”

Billy’s lips turned up. “You don’t like mulled wine?”

You curled your nose, and he kissed your mouth. “I thought you’d never ask, sweet pea.”

x

Tags; @idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate @aoi-targaryen

Monsters in the Dark #21

Nightmares, ptsd, mentions of canon typical violence, dark themes, fem!reader.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

x

You were drowsy that night, curled against Billy while he cleaned his ka-bar. You watched him, eyelids drooping. “How many people has Billy killed with that?” You asked, scooting closer.

“Too many to count.” Billy said, wiping the blade. He looked dangerous holding it, the way the blade gleamed in his hand. The casual way he handled it, and twirled it.

It excited you.

“I’m a monster.” Billy said, though not self deprecating at all. He sounded darkly amused.

“Billy’s my favorite monster.” You said, playing with his sweater, twirling a loose thread around your finger.

“Oh, baby. You’re my favorite angel.” He said, pinching your cheeks.

You giggled, before yawning halfway through your giggle. “Time for bed, sweet pea?” He asked, setting his knife down.

“Wanna be with you a little longer.” You said, yawning again.

Billy’s heart burned for you. You reminded him so much of the boy he was; sweet, trusting, loving. He remembered following his mother everywhere, to her annoyance, clinging to her clothes.

Billy wanted to protect your heart. Even from himself.

He kissed your forehead, watching you.

“Sometimes I dream that I’m in those woods again,” you said, “waiting for my mom. And if I look close enough the trees and the branches look like monsters in the dark.” You continued.

Billy listened quietly. It was the first time you had spoken of your nightmares.

“They pull on me, on my clothes, trying to drag me deeper into the woods, tearing at my skin. I always wait for God, but He never comes. But you know who does?” You asked, looking up at him.

Billy swallowed.

“Billy. Billy comes. And I always take his bloody hand, and we go away, away into the darkness. And then, I’m finally safe in his arms.” You said, softly.

Billy crushed you to him, and tucked you under his chin, and his treacherous heart blazed.

You both sat like that for some time, enjoying each other’s company, feeling full there.

There was never going to be a time that Billy wouldn’t come for you.

List five things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box of the last ten people who reblogged something from you. Spread the positivity!🍄🌵

Thank you for this, Ericca!! 💜💜

Apples and Cinnamon scents.

Autumn.

Cheesecake.

A hot bath.

Stardew Valley.

💜 Love you, and thank you for answering mine!

Hozier, Francesca ("Unreal Unearth")

Friendly reminder to all the writers on here:

You don’t owe anyone good writing.

You don’t owe anyone a complete storyline written in order.

You can jump around. You can abandon projects. You can write really shitty stories! Writing is about telling stories and creating worlds. Not about what makes your followers happy.

I have to remind myself of this a lot, because in most of my stories I’ve gotten stuck and don’t know where to go. But you can jump around. You can skip parts. It doesn’t matter.

Write what makes you happy.

do you think cats hear you calling for them, and just smugly stay put because they’re amused by you running around looking for them?

or they’re petty because you didn’t give them chicken??

she was fr mad at me for not giving her chicken off my plate.

Send this to ten other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the game going, make someone smile!!! ♡♡♡

💜💜💜💜 aaaaa, I needed this today. Thank you, Kim!!

“wtf is wrong with you”

you mean like today or like in general?

Hozier writing Francesca: what if every horrible thing you've ever been through has led you, or will yet lead you, to someone you love so much you'd do it all again. What if the suffering is all worth it, not from a religious standpoint but because of someone you love. What if that's all there is - heaven and hell couldn't care less about us, but we care for one another. We endure the unspeakable for one another. What if heaven won't let us in but we wander together through the darkness for eternity knowing we acted in love and having no regrets. What if heaven can't contain people of complexity and passion like ours. What if we were offered the opportunity and we said we'd do it all again.

when a hot fictional man commits atrocities i’m like. where are your morals? where is your dignity? where do you live? when can i come over?